You are too kind. "What is it?" "Can't you see? Together, down there; you and I!… As my wife! Both of us, never to be lonely again!… Will you marry me, Ruth?" As many a wiser woman had done, Ruth mistook thrilling eagerness for love. I am the richest man in England. A hazy face appeared through the fog of sleep, pale and thin and looming. Terence, meanwhile, who had followed him, did not remain silent, but recapitulated his story, for the benefit of Mrs. He ushered them with an amiable flat hand into a minute apartment with a little gas-stove, a silk crimson-covered sofa, and a bright little table, gay with napery and hot-house flowers.
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